


The World Keeps Moving

by VenomQuill



Series: Dragon Age II [1]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Darkspawn, Destruction of Lothering, Gen, alternate beginning, death warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:29:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24608479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenomQuill/pseuds/VenomQuill
Summary: The Blight did not stop at Ostagar. Instead, it spread like vines choking a tree, forcing the Hawke family to flee. When Malcome Hawke died, his oldest daughter, Maria, filled in the void left behind to care for her mother, Leandra, and her younger twin siblings, Carver and Bethany. They lived a life on the run, ducking out of the grasp of templars to keep the family together. Maria had no illusions that their life would be any easier, or that she would be anywhere as good as her father. But now, with monsters crawling out of the earth and spreading their disease that blackens the land, a whole new world of challenges approaches.Can Maria keep her family together and safe against this deadly plague, or will the darkspawn claim yet another family of victims?
Series: Dragon Age II [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1794661





	The World Keeps Moving

**Author's Note:**

> Find it on dA: [The World Keeps Moving](http://fav.me/ddyz3uz)

W _ary, weary, the vigilance ne’er ends,_

A _nd with it comes travel, so make amends._

R _ighteous or callous, they await their trial,_

D _etermined to find knowledge, stay awhile._

E _ndanger your loved one, he’s the problem,_

N _ow sick you are, let your talent blossom._

The sun was shining, the wind was blowing. In a small house clustered together with all the other small houses in their small town bordering the Imperial Highway were two people. An older woman, her gray hair reaching her shoulders half-bare in her simpler yellow dress banded brown and skirted blue, looked out the window. Her daughter, a woman just a few inches taller than she, even with black hair that only reached her ears, left the mostly bare bedroom. Unlike her mother’s simpler, thinner peasant’s dress, her own clothes were reinforced with thicker leather. “Mother,” she said as she entered the older woman’s vision.

Leandra started a little. “Oh, my dear. Have you seen Bethany?”

“She’s helping the neighbor with her kids.” Marian Hawke chuckled. “That or she’s trying to convince old Barlin to _not_ poison his traps.”

“I saw three people pass through today. They weren’t refugees.”

Hawke’s smile fell a little. “Mother, I’m sure–”

“Carver hasn’t come home yet!” Leandra burst out. “My poor baby, I told him not to go! You should have been more convincing. Now he’s off who knows where trapped with those _things_.”

Hawke suppressed a sigh. If she had a silver for every time she heard “You should have” she could buy their way to Denerim–and travel there in a carriage. “Mother, I think Carver went deaf with how little he listens to me.”

“How could you joke about this?” Leandra bit her lip. “I’m going to find Bethany. Maybe she saw him.”

Hawke looked back. “Well… I didn’t want to touch Carver’s secret box. So _maybe_ I should–”

The door opened. A young man, a few years younger than Hawke, ran inside, puffing. He no longer bore the armor Hawke could have imagined a volunteer for the army would wear. He still had those gold and brown shirt he “lost” the sleeves to. A girl his age with a striking resemblance to him hurried in after, eyes wide as a doe’s.

“Carver! Bethany! Where have you been?” Leandra rushed forward to take her son and look him over.

“I’m _fine_ , Mother,” the young man complained, somehow able to escape her grasp. “But no one else is.”

Bethany chipped in, “Everyone’s almost moved out, Mother.”

Hawke announced, “Great! Well, not for them, but for us now because we need to get out of here. Carver, I didn’t touch your box in case it had more letters in it. I packed our bag by my bed. Bethany, we’ll need to get a move on, so could you grab our staves? I stuck them in the closet behind the broom and coats. The coats are gone now, though.”

Obedient to her as they were their own mother or late father, the twins went further into the house. Leandra sighed, a hand to her heart. “Oh, Maker. I was so worried.”

“You know Carver, too stubborn to get taken down by a few darkspawn,” Hawke chuckled. “We’re going to be fine. Let’s just get out of here before… they catch up.”

_Let’s just get out of here before they catch up._

Hawke, her starburst-tipped staff over her shoulder, ran in lead, analyzing the road before them, glancing back at her family. Bethany and Carver stuck together. However, Leandra started to lag behind. The growls and roars of darkspawn flooded the trail behind them.

Their mother collapsed, landing hard on her hands and knees, her breaths coming in heavy pants. They stopped. Bethany waved her hand with a sharp yell. A wall of fire burst up behind Leandra, spitting and crackling as it blocked the ravine they crossed. One of the monsters caught in the flame collapsed, screaming. Another charged through, snarling as fire washed over it but could find no hold on its tainted armor or wrinkled skin. Hawke charged forward and whipped her staff, knocking the monster upside the head. It collapsed like it’s former. The third darkspawn–its boots slightly charred as it stomped over the fire–did not move far before being cut down by Carver’s great sword.

Bethany helped Leandra up as Hawke and Carver–making sure the evil things would not get up–joined them.

“I think that’s all of them,” Carver announced.

Bethany chipped in, “For the moment.”

Leandra shook her head. “Maker save us. We’ve lost it all, everything your father and I built…”

Hawke said, “At least we’re alive. That’s no small feat.”

“Yes,” Leandra sighed, her breathing finally under control. “You’re right.”

Bethany burst out, her gaze on Carver. “We should have run sooner, why did we wait so long?”

Carver stiffened. “Why are you looking at me? I’ve been running since Ostagar!”

Hawke looked back at the fire, which barely held back more of the fiends. “Not to interrupt, but the Blight’s not going to wait around while we stand here pointing fingers.”

Leandra looked between her twins. “Please! Listen to your sister.”

Carver nodded. “Then let’s go.”

Hawke moved again, looking over their steep surroundings. A dead refugee lay in the dust. Near him was a staff. Hawke snatched it as they moved. She came to a halt as more of the fiends trickled in from the north. The fire died behind them so that cluster rushed forward.

Hawke gripped the new staff in both hands and waved it at the creatures. A broken clump of ice smacked into one. The thing growled at the blow, but advanced. Carver took to cutting down the monsters behind them while Bethany stayed beside Leandra, shooting down the monsters clustering around her brother.

While Hawke was never a soldier, or any type of fighter, really, she did know when mercy wasn’t an option. She clubbed one with her frosted staff and shot at another, standing her ground. If she dare moved back, the creatures might take more interest in the defenseless mother or younger sister. _That_ wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

Carver rushed to Hawke’s side. The last Hurlock fell, cut down by a sword and frozen by bolts of ice.

They wasted no time in moving.

As they climbed a hill, Bethany called, “Wait!” They stopped and looked back at her. “Where are we going?”

Her brother stated, “Away from the darkspawn. Where else?”

“And then where? We can’t just wander aimlessly.”

Hawke chipped in, “So long as we wander aimlessly away from the horde, I’m happy.”

Leandra hesitated and said, “We could go to Kirkwall.”

Hawke chuckled a little. “Well, that wouldn’t be my _first_ choice.”

Bethany agreed, “There are a lot of templars in Kirkwall, mother…”

“I know that, but we still have family there–and an estate.”

Bethany sighed. “Then we need to get to Gwaren and take ship.”

Carver snorted and started moving again. “If we survive that long. I’ll just be happy to get out of here.”

 _“Maker, more darkspawn,”_ Hawke thought to herself as they climbed down the hill into yet more of the monsters. As they fought the last of their immediate aggressors, they heard a yell–a human woman yell. She didn’t sound in distress, but Hawke hurried forward to look anyway. A woman wielding a sword cut through a Hurlock, deflecting its sword with her own as if she’d done so a million times already. A band held her loose ginger ponytail tight to her head, which nearly touched her plain white and orange clothes, and she glared at their assailants with the ferocity of a high dragon. Beside her, contrasting her simple clothes but tough demeanor, was a templar. He hid behind his shield as a darkspawn attempted to cut into him, and then returned the attack. A second stalked up behind him and swung up. The man yelled as the wicked blade cut through his back and shoulder. He immediately dropped his shield and, arm tucked close, stumbled back into the rocks.

Before the creature could finish him off, the woman barreled into it, knocking them both flat. It grunted as she punched it in the face. “You will not take him!” she barked, kneeling on the creature long enough to grab its weapon, press its own sword against its throat, and shove the blade down. The monster stopped squirming. She snatched her weapon and the templar’s shield. Then, keeping him tight to her side with the shield hiding him, she helped the templar to his feet. “They will not have you.” She turned her gaze on the approaching creatures. “Not while I breathe.”

It was then that Hawke, Carver, and Bethany joined the fray.

Hawke watched the injured templar, even as the woman with him helped him down and stood between him and the darkspawn. _Injured, not good. A templar, worse._ Still, the siblings wasted no time in helping the woman against what would have been a hopeless endeavor.

The woman, after determining they were no longer in danger, for the moment, knelt beside the injured man. “Stop squirming, Wesley. You’re only going to make it worse.”

The man clambered to his feet and stood off against the family. “Apostate!” he accused. “Keep your distance.”

Bethany rolled her eyes. “Well, the Maker has a sense of humor. Darkspawn, and now a templar. I thought they all abandoned Lothering.”

“The ’spawn are clear in their intent,” Welsey stated forcefully, swaying a little on his feet but otherwise staying in a hard stance. “–but a mage is always unknown. The Order dictates…” The man looked straight at Bethany.

The woman sighed. “Wesley…”

Still, the templar struggled through his speech and walked forward. “That woman is an apostate. The Order dictates…” Hawke stepped in front of her, eyes narrowed in a fierce glare against the man and shoulders squared. He turned on her, tensing as if prepared to fight. How he intended to fight them in his condition, she wasn’t entirely certain. Still, templars were a predictable as their armor was shiny.

“Dear, they saved us,” the woman sighed. “The Maker understands.”

He lost his glare and his shoulders slumped. “Of course.” He turned and walked back to the woman’s side. Hawke smiled and returned to her family, though she still stood in front of them. Rather, between them and the injured templar.

The woman said, “I am Aveline Vallen. This is my husband, Ser Wesley. We can hate each other when we’re safe from the horde.”

Hawke pointed out, “A strange time to be hunting apostates. His fellows left with the Chantry priests.”

“I was traveling to Denerim on business for the Order,” he admitted. “–but I had to turn south when I heard of Ostagar.”

Aveline chipped in, “Bad luck–and judgement–brought us together here before the attack.”

Bethany turned to Hawke. “The nice templar has been convinced to postpone his hunt for illegal mages. So let’s not dwell upon it, shall we.”

Aveline nodded. “Wise girl.”

The eldest sibling chuckled. “The wrath of the templars is terrible, indeed.”

At this, Ser Wesley gained a slight, pained smile. “More so the wrath of their wives. But as long as there is a greater danger, you and I have an accord. For now, we move with you. North is cut off. We barely escaped the main body of the horde.”

Leandra gasped and set her face in her hands. Carver burst out, “Then… we’re trapped! The Wilds are to the south! That’s no way out!”

Hawke puffed, “Well, if the options are ‘south or die,’ I’ll take my chances with south.”

Aveline trailed behind them a little as she supported her husband. Otherwise, they stayed tightly together as Hawke led her family through the trail. Aveline chipped in, “I’ll take rear guard.” So, Leandra and Wesley traveled beside each other, the templar barely able to stand and walk, but able to stand and walk all the same.

The templar murmured, “Blessed Andraste, guide out fallen to the Maker’s side.”

They didn’t make it far before encountering more of them. This time, while a few barreled down the trail straight for them, others perched on a cliff with crossbows. Aveline and Carver rushed forward to meet them while Hawke and Bethany stepped back to protect the defenseless. Bethany’s fireball whizzed past Hawke and exploded amongst the bolters. Wow that girl was so much better with offensive magic than Hawke was. Then again, healing was Hawke’s pursuit and her father always said she was a gifted and determined healer. If only she could have apprenticed under a mage healer not part of the Circle. Now _that_ would have been great.

“Fight me before anyone else!” Aveline challenged, struggling to keep as much attention on herself as possible.

As they traveled down the trail, pushing the darkspawn back and slaying any that got in their way, more appeared. Maker, was there no end to them? One in particular caught her eye as they arrived in a clearing. It was taller than its fellows and robed. It glared at them with sunken eyes in a withered face. As they got near, its hands lit up in flames and it threw a weaker bolt of fire at them.

“Get the magic one!” Hawke commanded, turning her attention completely on it. Carver and Bethany didn’t hesitate. Aveline was still focused on the smaller ones, but went to help Carver push it back. It didn’t take long for it to fall.

Hawke yelped as an arrow dug into her waist. She stepped further back and Aveline and Carver both challenged the offenders. Bethany walked forward just close enough to throw a fireball into their ranks. Carver stumbled back, finishing off one of the beasts. Still, blood seeped from his wounds and he was a little shakier. Hawke waved her staff toward him. Blood stopped flowing and the cuts stitched themselves together, for the most part. He was still cut, but the cuts were shallow and no longer bled.

Aveline and Carver rejoined them. The woman declared, “Quickly, before they regroup. We much press toward the Wilds!”

Hawke hid a grimace. That wasn’t a sentence she ever thought she’d get to hear. Still, they pressed forward. Hawke snatched a couple of unused poultices beside a very dead refugee and hurried up an incline. They could see forever across the landscape on the plateau they now stood upon. Hawke looked around and perked up upon seeing a trail down. Then, they stopped. They did not see darkspawn over the cliff. No, they stopped as the ground shook beneath them.

Hawke looked around, finding them all to be scattered. At least Bethany stayed close to Leandra. Wesley snuck off to lean on the rocks that jutted up beside them.

Over the rise came a giant pair of twisted horns. Hawke’s blood went cold as they gazed upon the monstrosity that barreled up the hill. The ugly thing, thickly built with some armor crossing its chest, creeping over its forearms, and stooping over his thighs, glared at them. Its beady eyes found Leandra and it roared. Bethany glanced back at her and stared up at the creature. “Maker give me strength,” she breathed and, her fingers alight in flames, stamped her staff against the ground and threw a bolt of fire at the monster. It held it’s arm up so the armor around its forearm blocked the blow.

The monster swooped down on her. It’s fingers crunched bone and a choked scream unable to be properly heard as the beast coiled its fingers around her lungs, came in answer.

Bethany pushed Leandra back, watching in horror as the monster slammed their eldest sister into the ground again and again. Leandra stumbled away, out of reach, but unable to look away as the ogre slamed her daughter into the hard earth again and tossed her.

“Maria!” Leandra screamed and raced to the young woman’s side as she hit the rocks and rolled back down.

They turned to face the ogre, who now searched for another person to slay. The beast was fast and ferocious. It charged at the first thing it saw. They could hardly jump out of the way of the thing’s path. But none of them fled. Aveline yelled a challenge and Carver swung at it as hard as he could with his sword. Bethany stepped out of reach of the thing. She had hardly begun the fight when they heard the jeering screams of more darkspawn. Although only a couple of them invaded their space, no one could not ignore the fearsome cries in the distance. As hard as she fought, the things pressed in closer and she backed up further. Carver let out a victorious yell as the monster stumbled over its own enormous feet and he sunk his blade into the back of its head.

Although they took many down, she couldn’t help but feel as if their battle was endless. Still, there came a moment of calm. In this moment of calm, they darted back to Maria.

“Maria, wake up,” Leandra whimpered. “The battle’s over, you’re fine!”

Aveline sighed, “I’m sorry, Mistress. Your daughter is gone.”

“No!” Leandra barked, though any strength she summoned failed instantly. “These things will not take Maria!”

Hawke swallowed at the bile she felt in her throat looking down at the bloody, half-crushed body of her older sister. “She risked her life to save us.”

Leandra’s shoulders shook as she gathered Maria in her arms. “I don’t want a hero. I want my daughter.” Leandra choked and bowed her head. “My poor little girl. My sweetheart.”

Carver stated, “If we stand here weeping, the darkspawn will take the rest of us, too.” Leandra looked up at him, but there was nothing but defeat in her gaze, now. They knew she couldn’t snap at her son, her little boy. Hawke stood in where their father, where Malcom, once stood. It was her job to protect them. It _had been_ her job to protect them.

Wesley, standing behind her, announced, “Allow me to commend your daughter’s soul to the Maker, Mistress.” He bowed his head and crossed an arm over his chest. “Ashes we were, and ashes we become. Maker, give this young woman a place at your side. Let us take comfort in the peace she has found in eternity.”

Leandra lay Maria down and brushed her hand over the woman’s soft, angular face. “I will never forget you, Maria.”

Noises, fierce and haunting, appeared again. They stood–all but Leandra–and turned to face them. More of the monsters poured in from all directions, screaming and waving their swords tauntingly above themselves.

“Flames!” Aveline spat. “We’re too late.”

Slowly, the fighting trio backed further and further together. For every one they killed, two more took their place. Carver burst out, “There’s no end to them!”

Then, the darkspawn stopped as a heavy growl rumbled over them. They looked back to see, perched on the rocks, was the largest creature they had ever seen. The dragon was larger than their house, her red-violet scales and many spikes gleaming in the sunlight. Two pairs of horns curled back behind her head. She roared. The darkspawn fled. The dragon arched her neck and spread her wings. Then, she was off. Bethany, Carver, and Aveline flattened themselves to the ground and the dragon opened her mouth and breathed a torrent of fire. The darkspawn screamed as every bit of ground they could occupy was on fire. She passed, grabbing one Hurlock in her mouth and another in her back paw before flying high, high up. The two beasts fell to their doom. She landed, stomping one Hurlock to death as she went. After another breath of fire, her tail whipped out, whisking over their heads and throwing a few dying monsters over the cliff.

She snatched the last surviving darkspawn and, crushing it in her grip, reared onto her back paws. Her attention turned to the still living people, all but Leandra being on their feet.

Then, the dragon ducked her head and curled her wings toward herself. With glaring light wreathing around her like the flames that still burned, she shrunk and shrunk. Through the smoke, fire, and light, they couldn’t see what was happening. But when the light faded and as the fire died down, they saw a human–a woman in clothes that looked almost scaly with feathery pauldrons. Her silver hair fell behind her, but some was tied back and stiff with ribbon like the horns of the dragoness.

Still clutching the dead Hurlock’s hand, she sauntered over to them. She dropped it in the flames before coming to a stop outside of her ring of destruction. “Well, well, what do we have here?” she hummed, setting a hand on her hip and looking over the gathered people. Aveline clutched her husband and turned his staggered fall into a gentle sit with his back leaning against the stone. “It used to be we never got visitors to the Wilds, but now it seems they arrive in hordes!”

“Th-thank you!” Bethany piped up. “I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t come.”

“I do!” the old woman said. “You would have perished. You still may.” With that, she turned and started to walk off. “If you wish to flee the darkspawn, you should know you’re heading in the wrong direction.”

Carver chipped in, “So you’re just going to leave us here?”

She stopped. “And why not?” The old woman turned around. “I spotted the most curious sight: a mighty ogre, vanquished! Who could preform such a feat? But now, my curiosity is sated, and you are safe… for the moment. Is that not enough?”

“We need to get out of here…” Bethany started.

The old lady laughed. “You do. Tell me, child: how do you intend to outrun the Blight?”

Carver answered, “We’re going to Kirkwall–in the Free Marches.”

“Kirkwall!” the lady huffed, though she didn’t lose her smile. “My, but that is quite the voyage you plan. So far… simply to flee the darkspawn.”

Carver said, “We’ve got family there. We have nowhere else to go.”

“That is a problem,” she hummed and looked over them. “Sadly, it seems my charity is at an end. You should be heading north.” With that, she walked across the dying flames. With light and fire, her body morphed, and wings spread. Suddenly, she was no longer the witch they spoke with, but a red-violet dragon taking off into the ether.

**Author's Note:**

> My goodness, it's really taken me this long to post a fanfiction of Dragon Age?
> 
> So, this game is full of tragedy. I played as a Dalish elf in Origins and thought "How could Hawke, a human living in Lothering, be any worse?" Boy-howdy was I wrong! I started playing again after a few years of doing other stuff. Man, I love these games. I haven't played Inquisition, yet. I'm still playing around with all the options in Dragon Age 2. People have their complaints, but it's honestly not a bad game. Dragon Age: Origins just set a bar no sequel could achieve.
> 
> Anyway, I just played a playthrough where her entire family dies (kinda tough to do, tbh). She deals with emotional trauma with laughter in an almost Chara-esc way. Or, you know, my way because I laugh at funerals because I can't deal with emotional pain. This leads to some inappropriate situations or words she'll later regret. Due to this loss of everyone she swore to protect, she became very attached to her friends--almost obsessively so to Anders. Even as the world burned, she could do nothing but defend her loved ones, to the void with the consequences. It became as much of a character fault as her conditioned self-lashing. But it's not all bad! She still had a dog!
> 
> So, anyway, I was watching the different fates of Bethany and thought "What if Bethany and Carver both lived, but Hawke didn't?" Then this came to mind. I'm not Leandra's biggest fan; she tends to take everything out on her children--namely Hawke, the breadwinner and eldest who took over when her father died. But I did recognize she didn't blame Bethany or Carver as hardcore as Hawke and she did lose a lot. Her family, her lifestyle, her home, and now her children. So, I guess it's whatever.  
>  ~~Not like her children lost their father and house, too, but whatever. I'm NOT going to treat Leandra like Noble McHero. Probably.~~


End file.
